


Z is for Zoecastra Laylandnra

by Rinkafic



Series: Magor 'verse [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-17
Updated: 2012-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:16:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinkafic/pseuds/Rinkafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magor Lorne and his apprentice are snowed in during the Winter Storms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Z is for Zoecastra Laylandnra

The Storms had been stronger this season than in past winters. Lorne and David had stopped working for a fortnight in order to move all the furniture and books out of the workroom because the roof had started to leak when ice backed up under the tiles. Grumbling the entire time about lost days and wasted energy, Lorne had used up a good portion of their stockpile of spell components doing the layered spells that would repair the roof. David had offered, but the Magor refused to allow him out in the storm to work on the damages using more conventional, non-magical means.

David took the opportunity to arrange the heavy books and tomes into a more sensible order than the chaos Lorne had worked under over the past years before he had been saddled with his apprentice-for-life. That set Lorne off when he figured out what his apprentice was up to, but David had weathered the barrage of complaints and carried on with his project. He was the one that had to fetch the books most of the time, so he was putting them where he could find them.

They were forced to spend a lot more time together, since they couldn’t go outside with the worst of the season bearing down upon them. Once the roof was repaired over the workroom and everything had been set to rights once more, David coerced Lorne into casting the warming spells and water workings in the glass room they had built over the summer and autumn. It was to be David’s refuge, the place he could escape too when he and Lorne began to chafe against each other too much. Lorne liked quiet and his books, David needed to be doing things or he got out of sorts. Digging in the dirt year round and tending to plants would sooth his soul.

The dirt was already in place in the glass room, once the room was warm enough, David set about planting seedlings. He would stop now and then to stare out the glass walls and ceiling, which Lorne had protected from the storms with strong wards. It had stopped snowing two days earlier, allowing David to go out and use the spell Lorne had taught him to melt the snow away from the path and leave a clear walkway from the road. Lorne was still the closest thing to a healer the district had, he needed to be accessible. Every few days, the Magor would go out and cast to clear the road. Each Magor did their best to keep his district’s part of the road clear for travel.

Finished with his planting, and craving something sweet, David decided to make honey drizzles in the snow. Those usually made Lorne smile, the Magor had a secret sweet tooth somewhere in his head. He went to the pantry for the honey and bundled up in his warmest cloak. David found that the door was frozen shut; he had to cast a spell to warm it, one of the spells he was most nervous about using because he feared setting the door aflame if it got too hot.

When he opened the door, he was shocked to see a basket standing on the snow covered doorstep. There were footprints along the walkway, leading up to and away from the door. Wary of strange bundles after living with a somewhat cantankerous and very suspicious Magor for the past five seasons, David crouched down beside the basket and examined it as best he could without touching it.

He stood up and closed the door. Then he ran to the study where Lorne was bent over his slanted table, copying spells from his master spellbook into one requisitioned by the Council. “Lorne! Come quickly!” he called from the door as he danced from foot to foot to ward off the chill from his short exposure to the wintry cold.

“It’s the dead of winter, there is nothing happening beyond more snow piling up. I swear if you’re interrupting me to come and look at ice angels on the window panes or another drift of snow against your glass room, I will take you over my knee and wallop you David!” He left his stool, despite the complaint and left his study.

“I didn’t touch it, I think it has a ward on it, but I couldn’t be sure,” David said as he dashed ahead to the front door. By the time Lorne caught up, he had the door open again and was crouched down, trying to listen to the basket, but he heard no sound.

Lorne wiped a hand over his face and sighed upon seeing the covered basket. He held a hand over it, using magic to try to get a sense of what was protecting it. “Out of season kittens, most likely. Though I think it is rather odd that someone would take the trouble to ward them against the cold. Move aside while I break the ward.”

Scrambling to get out of the way, David stood behind Lorne and watched him work. He made gestures in the air, which David dutifully copied. Lorne said his hand work was dreadful and he needed to practice. The ward broke with a shimmer and the air was filled with a howling sound.

“Goddess!” Lorne exclaimed and threw himself forward, kneeling down and hurriedly opening the top of the basket. He pulled out a piece of parchment and held it up over his shoulder towards David behind him. “Read that.”

“Dear Magor, it has been said that you have a kind heart,” David snorted but continued reading as Lorne dug his hands into the basket. “You will be able to protect this treasure as me and mine have been unable to do. Please, keep and care for our…”

“Baby,” Lorne finished for him as he lifted a crying infant from the basket. The baby was wrapped in the oddest blankets David had ever seen. “Is it signed?”

David turned the parchment over to look for more. “No.” He helped Lorne to stand up and peered over the Magor’s shoulder at the baby. “Someone left you a baby?”

Turning towards David, Lorne pressed his lips together and shook his head as he held the bundle out to David, pressing it meaningfully against David’s chest. “Someone left US a baby. Go check it over, it probably needs a dry nappie. Keep it by the fire.”

Completely at a loss, David held the baby and watched Lorne go to the door. “Where are you going Lorne?”

Picking up the empty basket and examining it before setting it down inside, Lorne waved a hand at the snow covered walkway and the footprints. “There are tracks, I am going to try to find the person that left the baby and get this matter straightened out.” He took his cloak from a hook by the door and wrapped it around himself before slamming the door behind him.

“Well, baby, I guess you and I are stuck with each other. Let’s go have a look at you,” David said to his small, unhappy companion. He went to the chest where they kept extra blankets and pulled out a few, carrying them under his arm to the workroom. He knelt before the fireplace and one-handed, managed to spread the blankets out in a small square. He placed the baby on it and unwrapped the oddly woven outer blankets. Beneath it he found a brightly colored patchwork of a material he had never seen or felt before.

Un-swaddled, the baby kicked and waved its hands and feet. It was clad in a simple pale green shift and a wet nappy. The baby was obviously newborn, too young to roll off the blankets, so David covered the babe with the quilt and quickly went to the storage closet where he kept cleaning supplies. There was a pile of washed and folded fabric meant to be used for rags there, irreparable or worn out clothing and bedding. He found a few that would serve the purpose and ran back to the baby, now quietly sobbing and sniffling, but no longer wailing.

Before taking the wet nappy off, he carefully examined how it had been folded and fastened. He found that there was a brooch holding the nappie closed. He unfastened it and examined it in the firelight. It was gold, finely etched and in the shape of a tiny frog. He set it aside and tugged off the nappie.

“Oh, hello, little miss!” he said as he wiped her dry with one rag and picked up another rag that seemed about the size he needed and folded it and wrapped it around the baby. He used the pin to fasten it. “Aren’t you the tiniest person I’ve ever seen?” She was at that. David couldn’t remember ever seeing a baby that could fit across the palm of his hand with only arms and legs dangling off. Her head was barely the size of an orange sweetfruit. She was less than half the size of the smallest baby his cousin had ever had.

She had quieted down once she was dry and was staring up at David as she sucked on her fist. Her eyes were a pale purple, the oddest color he had ever seen. He had set aside a soft blanket made of lambswool and he used that to swaddle her back up snugly. His cousins said babies liked to be bundled tightly, it made them feel secure.

“There now, nice and clean and dry. Now, we’ll need to figure out what to feed you.”

He carried her to the kitchen, and near the front entrance, David spied the jar of honey that he had set on the floor and forgotten about in the excitement. He picked it up and went to the kitchen. They had no milk. Lorne did not keep animals, for which david was secretly grateful because the chore of keeping them clean, fed and watered would have fallen to him as the apprentice. He had a hard enough time making sure the Magor ate regularly. He warmed some water and mixed two spoons of honey into it. Taking the mug of honey water and a piece of cheesecloth with him back to the workroom, he sat in the big chair by the fire. He crossed one leg, bringing his ankle up and arranged the baby in the crook formed by his folded leg. He dipped the twisted edge of the cloth into the mixture and touched it to the baby’s tiny rosebud mouth.

Her tiny pink tongue darted out and she licked at it and then began to suck on it. Relieved that he would at least be able to get some liquid into her, David slowly fed her the entire mug. When she was finished, she smiled up at him dopily and gave a gigantic burp and he laughed to hear such a loud sound from such a miniature person. 

~*~

 

A hand on his shoulder woke David from the doze he had fallen into. Lorne was crouching beside the chair, staring at the sleeping baby. The fire had burned low in his absence.

“Did you find anything?” David asked in a quiet voice.

Lorne nodded. “Let me see her.” Awkwardly, David passed the infant to his master. Lorne placed her on the blankets David had left folded on the floor before the fire and unwrapped her. “Did you look her over?”

“Yes, briefly, I didn’t want her chilled so I wrapped her up quickly. How do you know she’s a girl?” David asked as he slid down from the chair to sit beside Lorne.

“I found them, they told me. Her name is Zoecastra Laylandnra.”

Looking around to see if there were strangers in the house he hadn’t noticed, David demanded in a hiss, “Well, why didn’t you bring them back here?”

“They’re dead.”

David’s eyes went wide and he gasped, “Master Lorne, you didn’t!”

“I most certainly did not! How could you think…? They were sick. Their whole… village… is sick. They wanted the baby to survive; she’s the last of them until the next eclipse. There are no others of her kind in the district, or they won’t be by winter’s end.” As he was speaking, Lorne carefully slid a hand under the baby and tugged up her tiny shift with the tip of one finger to reveal her back. He turned her so that David could see.

Sagging back against the chair David said breathily, “Oh, my.”

“Indeed.” Lorne let his finger lightly graze the edge of one perfectly formed green wing. “They begged us to treat her as we would our own child; Sylphan children wither and die without love.” He carefully wrapped the blanket around her again and looked up at David. “Do you think you… we… can do that? Can we be a family for her?”

David reached out and clasped Lorne’s shoulder. “Of course we can.”

“I don’t know anything about babies,” the Magor whispered in a frightened voice as he looked at the tiny baby resting in his hands.

“Well, it is a very good thing you have so many books. We’re going to have to learn quickly, aren’t we?”

Lorne nodded, looking a little skeptical. “They gave me some charms and jewelry they had on them to give her when she is older. They want her to know her heritage and her people someday.” He suddenly remembered something. “She can’t have milk. They said not to give her milk, it will make her sick. She has to have water and essence of flowers and honey and fruit until she is old enough to eat solid food.”

“No wonder she liked the honey water,” David mused. “How big will she get? I don’t know anything about the Sylph; there were none in the lands around my family’s farm. She’s not evil, is she?”

“Of course she’s not evil, she’s a baby! She’ll get to be people size, maybe a bit more petite than an average human girl. They change their size using a spell, it isn’t a permanent thing. Most of the time, they’re big, like us. You might have met some and didn’t even know it.”

Waking at the sound of Lorne’s voice, the baby gave a wide yawn and opened her eyes. “You know, Zoecastra Laylandnra is a really big name for such a tiny person. I think from now on, we’ll just call you Zoe,” Lorne declared as he touched a fingertip to the tiny nose.


End file.
